Defensor Populus
by OzWibs
Summary: Another story where someone gets summoned other than Saito, with some bizarre circumstances surrounding the summoning. Two Blue Berets find themselves lost in a world that turns everything they know on top of its head. Hopefully, they can make something of themselves in this new world. Rated M For harsh language and violence
1. Sh-Boom

_Defensor Fortis._ Defender of the Forces. A fitting motto for the men and women who stood by and guarded the base, and protected the planes. The US Air Force's Sucurity Forces couldn't be said to be a glamorous specialty, and the job they were forced to do often left those wearing the blue beret that was the symbol of their status quite lonely. There is no airman that likes to recieve a ticket or wait in line at a checkpoint, and the other branches always worked to find their little ways to look down on the "Chair Farce." Still, there are those that choose it nonetheless, and to them, that blue beret is a symbol of pride, a symbol of security, and to those who are ostrasized by their peers by the nature of their job, it is a sign of a fellow, one who understands the plight of the military policeman.

Of course, none of the philosophising that tended to go with the long hours sitting in a checkpoint did anything to make the day shorter, or more interesting for Airman First Class Henry "Abrams" Weston. He never did understand how he got that name, but his peers always snickered whenever it was said. Behind his back, people noted that he was akin to a human tank, clocking in at six foot four, and weighing, at their best guess, around two hundred and eighty pounds, without an ounce of fat on him. Weston had just glanced up at the clock when he saw what he had always hoped to not. With twenty minutes left until he was to be relieved, a large white passenger van was pulling up to the gate, driver's face concealed.

 _This can't be good_ , he thought, grabbing his carbine and stepping out of the booth. The driver of the van seemed to just now notice Weston, and setting himself in what appeared to be determination, stepped on the throttle in the van. Reacting swiftly and surely, Weston primed his M4 for firing, disengaged the saftey, and raised the rifle at the van rapidly accelerating towards him. _Inhale, Exhale._ Weston felt as if he was only watching form a distance, and saw as whatever it was that was controlling his body calmly settled into a standing firing position and put two founds of 5.56 NATO into the skull of the van's driver.

The attempted ram through the gate ended as soon as it began. With the van's driver dead, it careened into the small gatehouse where Weston had been sitting not twenty seconds prior. Weston stood in a daze, stunned at how quickly everything had happened.

"What the FUCK are you standing there for?"

The aggrivated shout of his fellow airman, one Miranda Hunt, snapped him out of his stupor. Quickly, he spun around and leveled his weapon at the wreckage, before glancing over at his battle buddy, who had clearly just finished up her restroom break.

"I go to the bathroom for ONE GODDAMN MINUTE and I immideately start hearing gunshots. What actually happened?" She asked, falling in beside Weston.

"Driver saw me, started accelerating. I decelerated him."

"Understatement of the year."

Slowly, the two advanced on the wreck, rifles steady. By now many of the othe on base athourities had begun to show up, most notably an ambulance and a couple of other Blue Berets. Once the two had finished reaching the vehicle, Weston drew a bead on the still bleeding driver of the van. "Check inside, I'll watch him."

Miranda nodded an affirmative, and began to get inside of the van, starting with opening the passenger door and sidling back into the cargo compartment. As the paramedics in the ambulance began approaching the wreck. As they approched, Miranda's form filipped about in the passage to the cargo area to the van, attempting to leap out, yelling all the while.

"FERTILIZER BOMB, HIT THE DE-"

The world went white, and two blue berets, one medic, and the remains of a man with his face still concealed were no more.


	2. AIn't that a Kick in the Head

Airman Miranda Hunt knew something was wrong when she saw the light. _Well, more wrong._ She was suspicious that something was wrong the moment she was coming out of the visitor center's bathroom and heard an engine roaring, and getting closer. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt something was wrong when she heard the sharp crack of an M4 twice in rapid succesion, a professional double tap. She wasn't sure if she would survive the day when she started moving to investigate the van's cargo. She knew, with absolute certainty, that she was going to die whe she saw that the back of the van was filled with _Best-Gro_ Premium fertilizer, and saw those little red numbers rapidly approaching zero, a harbinger of doom in their own right.

 _So why the hell am I here, in front of the wrck, staring at_ The Light _standing at parade rest with the Abrams and that ambulance driver?_ She was not deeply religous, despite the best efforts of the nuns and St. Claire's, and had assumed that if indeed she saw anything after she died it would be the fires of hell that the Father Murphy always droned on about. Standing as she was, it appeared that the powers that be had a sense of humor, or were just very into order, given the small formation that those she assumed had died in the blast were standing in. The formation, if it could be called that, was a single element, four people long.

Henry was standing in the position of the Right Man and First Element Feader, at the far right of the first row. She stood directly to his left, and on her left stood a Japanese man, about five foot eight. The man's nametag read Hiraga, and his slumped shoulders seemed to indicate he knew exactly what happened. Glancing down to the end of the line, she saw the form of the man who had evidently been the terrorist, now unmasked and gesturing wildly. He appeared to be speaking rapid fire Arabic, but she couldn't hear the words he was saying.

 _Hmmm... I wonder..._ She trned to look at Abrams, and found that he had the same idea, pointing at her, then gseturing to his ear. _You, Listen._ The signs, while practically useless for most of her career, had been drilled into her mind in basic. _Alright, I can do that._ She gave the OK signal, and he started moving his mouth in an attempt to talk. She quickly put her left hand flat in frontove her and moved it horizontally back and forth a few times. _I don't understand._ Glancing back to her left, she saw that the arab man had stopped geturing and was now simply flailing, and apparently screaming, with the ghostly apparition of flames covering him. More of the light that bathed the four shifted onto Hiraga, and he, too started appearing to talk very fast and wave his arms around frantically. Hiraga suddenly adopted a confused expression and covered one ear, apparently hearing something other than what he was trying to refute.

Hunt glanced back at Abrams, and quickly pointed at him, then herself, before putting a hand to her throat quickly and clumisly signing out _You, Me, Hostages._ His hands flashed out a quick affirmative, before grabbing his aviators off of his face and shielding his eyes. He quickly replaced them, and put his right arm out as if gripping a pistol, ad cupping one open palm about six inches back from his hand. _Light, enemy._ She signed a quick OK, and shouldered her rifle, keeping it at low ready. While there probably wasn't much she could do against the something like light using bullets, it was reassuring to have the weight in her arms. To her left, Hunt noticed Hiraga erupting in the saame ghostly flame and starting to scream. It struck her how eerie the silence was, with two men burining and screaming to her left, unable to be heard. As the light began to shift towards her, she noticed a light of a different color sitting in front of the Japanese medic. A green oval, about as tall as a man, pulsting without rhyme or reason. Without a glance at Abrams, the dropped her left hand to he side, and swiped it forward as a closed fist, switched hands did the same motion with her right. _Point of entry, Follow me._ Abrams signed his OK with his hands still behind his back, having reverted to the position of parade rest. From that point he would follow her whenever she moved. While Weston technically outranked hier, trust was a two way thing, and was well established between the two. As soon as the light finished shifting onto her, she heard a voice she had no dout WAS the light call out to her.

 **"For your sins-"**

That was all Miranda needed to hear. She took off like a rocket, blasting through the distance between her and the green light as fast as she could. Despite it only being less than a second of movement, she could hear Abrams launch off behind her. She ran facefirst into that green portal, and for the second time that day, her world went white.


End file.
